


This Year's Myth

by schmevil



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Dreams, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-28
Updated: 2010-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-06 18:30:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schmevil/pseuds/schmevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exams, dreams and caffeinated pumpkin products.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Year's Myth

**Author's Note:**

> improv using words (splash, poppy, afghan) from [](http://cedarlibrarian.livejournal.com/profile)[**cedarlibrarian**](http://cedarlibrarian.livejournal.com/). (Written pre-OotP).

He dreamed he was walking through a field of poppies and all he could think was that he was forgetting their sixth use in potions-making. The first five came to him purely because the school of flying orange fish was singing about them, but the fast buggers were out of range before they got to the sixth.

He hated fish. And exams, he definitely hated exams. In fact, he would go so far as to say that he hated both fish and exams enough to wish Draco Malfoy on them. Draco Malfoy chasing a school of flying orange fish, trying to catch them between his teeth. Draco Malfoy attacking his final exam, expelled for violence against school property?

Honeydukes had introduced a new line of caffeinated pumpkin products. His addiction had a straw attached to his lips every second he spent outside of class and last night he'd rubbed the roof of his mouth raw by falling asleep on it. He'd only been asleep for an hour or two, of course. He was dreaming all the time now. Flying orange fish in History of Magic and a horrifically nude Professor McGonagall in Transfigurations.

His absolute favourite dream though, was about summer. There was a pond not far from the house. Really just a brief splash of water in summer, and a bump of frost in winter. Instead of flying orange fish, there was an actual pond there and he was floating on his back, watching the clouds chase each other. A pumpkin lolly between his lips, for the taste instead of the caffeine. It wasn't one of the old decaffeinated ones because even his dreaming mind knew he'd never be free.

He could flip over and look down, and the water would just keep on going and going. Just like the sky.

Harry floated too, off to his right and if he reached out, he could touch the crown of his head. Hermione stayed on shore, she was always a shore kind of girl, she said. He knew that wasn't really the case but didn't mind because she could watch their lunch and make sure it didn't get infested by ants.

There was nothing in the pond but those long, slimy plants that clung to your legs if you went too far down. They never did. The surface was too nice for them to want to explore the depths.

Then Harry would splash him and he'd have to splash back, it was a matter of honour. They'd end up staggering out of the water like a couple of rain-drenched cats and collapse on the plaid blanket beside Hermione. She'd pull her fuzzy afghan tighter against her bare shoulders, away from their wet. They'd enjoy the slow, cool breeze against their skin and pretend to listen while she scolded them.

Sometimes he woke up then, and other times the moment would stretch.

They'd never really gone swimming, or had a picnic and Hermione hated afghans, because the other girls in her year had developed a passion for them, ever since the lead singer of Bulfinch started wearing them.

Hermione applied for apprenticeships last year and her top three choices all but begged her to come aboard. Harry just wanted to make it to his fourtieth birthday without ever again doing anything of any interest to anyone. He reckoned if he made it that far they'd stop producing his chocolate frog card altogether and let him become a footnote instead of a possible research paper for future students.

Ron... Ron wanted to find a lake and go swimming. After exams were done and everything else, after things were calmer, maybe he'd suggest it.


End file.
